


Choose how to call me, not how to change me

by shanimalew



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluffy Ending, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, Self-Esteem Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-10
Updated: 2018-08-10
Packaged: 2019-06-25 11:46:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15640113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shanimalew/pseuds/shanimalew
Summary: He doesn’t know what he did wrong.He was acting as usual, everything seemed normal.But he couldn’t be more wrong....and now he’s in the middle of the kitchen with a very drunk, and very angry, Hank who’s screaming at him; all because he asked where he had been.





	Choose how to call me, not how to change me

**Author's Note:**

> My first fic for this beautiful pair! I'm both nervous and excited to post it, I really hope you like it.
> 
> This story is inspired by a song, 'Amore che torni' by Negramaro, an Italian band. Check it out if you want, they are really good ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JM30Jvcw-K4 )

He doesn’t know what he did wrong, what he did to…trigger this reaction in Hank.

He was acting as usual, everything seemed normal.

Well, he had noticed during the week that Hank was more irritable than usual, but he figured if he was doing something wrong Hank would tell him.

They’ve talked about it, before starting their relationship. Communication was key.

Connor couldn’t analyse Hank but in return he had to express his feelings, his discomfort. And it had worked for the past six months.

So, when Hank didn’t say anything Connor figured it was due to work, or maybe a passing mood.

But he couldn’t be more wrong, which is funny because he was built to be a detective, to analyse deviants’ and then humans’ behaviour in order to catch them. And he failed to understand Hank’s, as always.

And that is why he’s now in the middle of the kitchen with a very drunk, and very angry, Hank who’s screaming at him; all because he asked where he had been.

“What are you, my fucking mother? I can go where ever I want, whenever I want and I don’t need to tell you shit!” he screams at Connor.

“How much did you drink?” he calmly asks, trying to get closer to Hank.

But Hank avoids him and goes straight to the fridge, searching probably for a beer.

“Fucked if I know, but what do you care? Are you disgusted?” he says, drinking half of the bottle in one sip.

“Hank…”

“Shut up!” he screams “Don’t say my name like that, like it means the fucking world… it’s just my shitty name” he murmurs.

“What happened?”

“Fuck off! Stop all this, you’re pissing me off”

At that Connor just snaps. He reaches for Hank’s arm and drags him into the bathroom.

“I’m done. You need to sober up” he says harshly.

“Oh, you’re done? I’m the one who’s done! With you and your fucking face!” Hank shouts, letting Connor drag him into the shower.

Connor is a rational man, so he knows that words can’t physically break his thirium pump, but nonetheless he feels something break inside at the implication of Hank’s words.

“Okay then” he says, voice breaking a little bit “I’ll help you and then I’ll be gone”

“What?” Hank whispers.

Connor just sighs and silently pushes Hank in the shower and lets the water run.

“Fuck that’s cold! It’s on you if I get sick, smartass”

Focused on keeping Hank under the water jet, he doesn’t notice Sumo who, probably woken up by Hank’s shouts, decides to join them in the bathroom and immediately sits near Connor’s side.

“Fucking traitor” Hank murmurs, trying to push his wet hair off his face.

“Even my dog doesn’t love me, why should you?” he continues.

Ah.

Everything falls into place.

Despite the situation, Connor smiles to himself.

 

Last Sunday he told Hank he loved him.

It was a spur-of-the-moment kind of thing, he didn’t really plan on it…which is so unlike him. He usually studies in depth every situation, evaluating each possible outcome before making a decision and act on it.

But Hank was so beautiful in that moment, with his hair tied up in a small ponytail and a determined look on his face, as he tried to remember how to cook his mother’s famous soup.

_“I know you can’t eat it but at least you can smell it, and it’s fucking amazing”_ he had said proudly.

The image still makes Connor’s heart swell. How could he not say it, when it was all he could think about in that moment?

If only he had stopped to think…

He doesn’t regret it, but he knows that despite his progress Hank is still very insecure about their relationship…about himself. And he knows that sometimes the voices in Hank’s head are loud, his inner demons so strong it’s hard for him to fight back, but the only thing he can do is be there for him, support him every step of the way.

That’s why he doesn’t reply, just turns his back on him and leaves.

“Where are you going?” Hank asks, voice so small it breaks Connor’s heart.

“In the kitchen. You need to drink some water, I’ll be back in a minute” he says smiling.

When he returns to the bathroom Hank is in front of the mirror trying to dry his hair with a towel. Even when Connor puts the glass of water on the sink near him, he keeps avoiding his gaze.

“I’ll go get you some dry clothes”

“Stop being so nice”

“Would you prefer if I told you to fuck off?” he says as he goes into the bedroom.

“I don’t fucking know! Just stop that, it makes me feel like I owe you something”

Speechless, Connor hands Hank the clothes. He takes them and shuts the door in Connor’s face.

As if Connor hadn’t seen him naked countless of times before…

 

When Hank gets out he finds Connor in the same place as he left him, LED spinning wildly.

“Did I break you?”

“What did you mean?”

They say at the same time.

Connor would laugh at the coincidence, if he didn’t feel so damn confused. And heartbroken, for some reason.

“Ugh just drop it, it’s nothing” Hank says, heading for the couch.

“No!” Connor shouts.

Both Sumo and Hank turn their heads, surprised.

“I’m so tired of you saying stuff and then run away. Be fucking honest with me!” he screams.

This should be a warning sign for both of them. Connor never screams, let alone swears.

Not that he can’t, of course. He just doesn’t like. Doesn’t feel like him. Hank is the one who usually screams. It may be considered a good outlet, to let strong emotions out, that’s why he doesn’t completely condemn it, but he never thought it would be of use to him.

Although, to be honest, he never really felt as frustrated as he feels right now.

 “You want honesty? I fucking hate running every Saturday, I fucking hate kale and I fucking hate your attempts to try and change me! You knew what you were getting into before starting this relationship. I’m an old alcoholic bastard with suicidal tendencies, take it or leave it!”

Connor flinches at those words, the anger behind them hitting him harder than any punch. He feels like all the air is suck out of his lungs, so he takes a deep breath, despite not needing to.

Another one of those human’s mannerisms he adopted without realizing. Like when he fidgets with his coin, he knows he doesn’t need to do it, it has no purpose or benefit to anyone, but it makes him feel calmer. His racing thoughts become more manageable, his thinking process clearer.

“I never wanted to change you, I just want you to live a long happy life” he murmurs.

All the anger from before has left his body, leaving only exhaustion.

“I’m not trying to make you into something you’re not, I’m just trying to bring back the man within you that loves living. I’ve seen him and he’s the man I love, just like drunk Hank. I love every version of you: past, present and future. I’ll love you no matter what you do or what you want to give me. If you want to self-destruct, be my guest. But don’t expect me to be by your side while you do that” he concludes, reaching for the door.

“Where are you going?” Hank asks.

There’s no trace of kindness in his voice, just harsh words spit at him. It makes Connor’s blood boil.

“Out. I need to think, alone. And you need to sober up” he replies harshly.

As soon as the door closes behind him, he feels the urge to put as much distance from Hank as possible.

So he starts running.

He doesn’t really know where he’s headed. He tries to focus only on the rhythmic sound of his feet clashing against the concrete, but his mind can’t stop replaying their last conversation, trying to analyse every single frame in search of something, anything, that can help him make sense of what happened.

How could Hank think he’d want to change him? Did he really have such a low opinion on Connor?

Him, who has done nothing but support him, trying to make him at least half as happy as Hank makes him. But apparently he had the opposite effect.

He understands he needs to be the bigger man here, especially since Hank was drunk during the whole conversation, but he can’t help feeling betrayed.

How come if Hank takes him to dates, shares with him his favourite films, he considers them love gestures but if he tries to do the same, he is ruining his life??

If he has to be honest with himself, his actions were not completely altruistic.

But is it a crime to want the man you love to live a long, healthy life with you?

It felt inebriating, to finally want something that badly.

He always felt distant, both from humans and deviants, because he never really fought against his programming. He felt like a machine trying desperately to be human, but ultimately failing.

But with time he realized that he’s always wanted. He had desires, he was just good at burying them and forget about them.

And it all started the day he met Hank.

At first he just wanted to befriend him, to speed up the investigation, but then he started wanting more.

He wanted to make Hank happy, to see him smile. He wanted to make Hank laugh with his attempts at making jokes or with his pranks at Reed. He wanted Hank to pat him on the back after a long day on a crime scene and tell him “Good job today, kid”.

And after they started dating these needs became even stronger: he wanted to wake up next to Hank every single morning and give him every ounce of love his body could produce. He wanted to kiss him, be as close to him as possible.

He has to admit, it was scary to feel such intense emotions for the first time. He is an advanced prototype with a more than adequate vocabulary to express himself and his needs but most of the time he felt lost in the sea of contradicting signals his body gave him. Apparently between the definition and feeling the emotion itself there’s quite some difference, so he lacked the proper words to perfectly express what he felt.

But with time he learnt that he could express himself in many different ways, not all verbal. So, he let himself feel everything and try to manifest it through actions.

Small gestures that helped him communicate to Hank his feelings.

And he knows that Hank understands them and that he loves him. He can see it in his eyes, in the way he sometimes looks at Connor with an open mouth, ready to say something, but always stopping at the last minute.

And he also understands Hank’s insecurities, but nonetheless he is tired of seeing his feelings stepped over. Why can’t Hank just accept that he loves him?

 

Without really noticing Connor finds himself in Detroit’s harbour, near what should have been Jericho but now it’s just an empty space with some floating ship pieces: the only thing that remains of that ship, of the chaos and violence of the revolution.

He sits there and closes his eyes, focusing only on the sound of the water clashing against the dock.

He inhales sharply, trying to calm his loud mind.

_“You know, I was thinking… Someday I’d like to take you to the beach, so you can really feel the ocean” Hank says, eyes focused on the horizon._

_“We have water here, it’s not the ocean but I don’t think there’s much difference”_

_“Oh Connor, you have no idea. What we have here is nothing compared to the sea, for starters it doesn’t smell like gasoline and trash. It’s something else, I can’t really describe it”_

_“Did you go often to the beach?”_

_“Nah, travelling there was a fucking nightmare. But every time I went I promised myself I’d find a nice place to live, maybe on a small beach, so that I didn’t need to travel to see the ocean. Obviously if I got to retirement age… I was always a reckless cop. But it was before Cole…” he says sighing._

_“Well, we could start looking again. I’d love to see the ocean with you, Hank”_

 

He lets out a shaky breath, slowly opening his eyes. A few tears fall on his face and he immediately wipes them, laughing bitterly at himself.

He hates this, crying in public, and he hates that every stressful not work-related situation makes him react like this.

But apparently, if you create a prototype of a detective android whose only reason to exist is to accomplish missions and you set him free, you’ll get an anxious being who has the tendency to bottle up every emotion he feels…until he explodes in a crying mess.

He feels weak. Pathetic.

 “I really want to see the ocean with you, Hank” he says to myself, voice breaking at the end.

He just hopes he didn’t fuck everything up by leaving…

Immediately, he freezes, as what ifs and possible scenarios flood his mind.

He trembles slightly.

He knows nothing is really happening, it’s highly probable that Hank just drank some more and fell asleep but still, he feels panic building up.

_Software instability_

_Irregular functioning of the thirium pump regulator_

_Problems with the audio processor…difficulties in processing sounds_

 

Scary warning signs flash into his vision, but he ignores them.

He knows, rationally, that this is just an emotional reaction and it will pass soon. He’s seen people go through this kind of emotional distress at the precinct and he’s read articles on how to manage them.

But this doesn’t stop him from gripping his shirt tight, at the level of the heart, gasping for air like he doesn’t have fake lungs, created just to help him simulate breathing and look more human.

“Hank is okay, this is just an irrational response due to stress. I am okay, Hank is okay” he repeats out loud like a mantra, feeling his systems cool down slowly.

It takes him a while to completely calm himself and reopen his eyes that he, involuntary, had closed.

The first thing he sees is the sun slowly rising from the horizon, painting the water with a nice pinkish colour. He watches mesmerised the scene.

He’s never seen the sunrise. It’s…magical.

The sun colours every ship, house and skyscraper. It’s like the city is waking up with humans.

He sits there for a little bit longer, taking in all the beauty; then he gets up and slowly starts walking.

As he gets closer to their home he slows down, unsure of what to do next. His anxious thoughts increase in intensity and he tries to calm down, studying the situation from an analytical point of view.

 

_The car is still parked outside the garage, and everything looks the same as he left it hours ago, so Hank hasn’t left the house._

_The house is silent and through the windows he doesn’t see any sign of movement, so Sumo is still sleeping. Which means Hank is sleeping, because if anything had happened he’d hear Sumo barking._

_Conclusion: Hank is okay, he is probably sleeping. 85% of probability that he fell asleep on the couch, where he left him._

_He is okay._

Nevertheless, he only relaxes when he opens the door and sees Hank, asleep on the couch surrounded by four empty beer bottles. His head is turned towards the door and bent in a weird, certainly uncomfortable, position.

_He was waiting for me…_

Sumo instantly gets up from where he was sitting between Hank’s legs and starts barking at him.

“Ssssh Sumo, Hank’s sleeping” he says to the dog, as he kneels and pets him.

“What the fuck Sumo? It’s too early for this” Hank mumbles.

He tries opening his eyes but then immediately covers them with his arm.

“Fuck it’s too bright out there, how much did I drink last night?”

“Too much” Connor says, without moving from his position.

Hank’s eyes snap back open, looking at him incredulous.

“Connor?”

“You shouldn’t sleep on the couch, it’s bad for your back”

Hank gives a hint of a smile, eyes tiredly checking him out.

“I didn’t think you’d come back”

Although he knows Hank doesn’t want Connor to analyse him, he runs a quick analysis, out of spite.

 

_Deep dark circles surround his bright eyes, he had a maximum of 2 and a half hours of sleep._

_There are traces of alcohol around his mouth and shirt, they look kind of fresh, so he kept drinking even after he left. Maybe until he passed out on the couch._

_His heart is beating normally and he doesn’t detect any other sign of complications due to the heavy drinking. He is just very hungover, but it’s not the worst one he’s faced._

_Conclusion: Hank is fine, they can have a conversation now without alcohol interfering._

 “Another wrong assumption, I’m concerned about your ability to continue working for the police” he says smirking.

He tries to lighten up the mood but immediately images of Hank screaming at him “I’m the one who’s done with you and your dumb face” appear in his vision and, for the first time, he feels out of place. Like he doesn’t belong here, in what he’s come to consider his home… their home.

“But…” he continues, unsure.

He knows his LED must be spinning wildly, so he turns his head towards Sumo, making it almost impossible for Hank to see. He doesn’t want to appear more vulnerable than he already feels.

“If you really want me gone, from the house and your life, I’ll accept it”

He keeps avoiding Hank’s gaze and busies himself with petting Sumo, who’s more than happy to receive all these attentions.

“Connor I was drunk, you know I…fuck do we have to do this right now?” he says, passing his hand over his face in frustration.

“I think so, but if it makes you feel better I can wait for you to make some coffee and properly wake up. I’ll go change in less filthy clothes” Connor says, and immediately flees the room.

He hears Hank cursing under his breath.

 

He takes his time undressing and choosing something to wear, giving both of them the time to think.

In the end he decides to wear Hank’s DPD hoodie, for sentimental reasons. If this is really his last day here he wants to memorize Hank’s smell and feel the soft texture of his hoodie on his skin.

It makes him think of the first time he wore it, back when the revolution had just ended and he needed a place to stay. Hank had offered him a house and some clothes, because ‘you can’t stay here with that uncomfortable shit. Home is for relaxation’.

He remembers how lucky and happy he felt…

The opposite of what he feels right now, standing in the middle of their kitchen, watching Hank sip tiredly his coffee.

“Please sit down, you’re making me uncomfortable”

Connor obeys silently, still not completely looking at Hank.

“Can you please look at me?” Hank asks, desperation dripping from his words. But Connor keeps looking at his hands, playing with his coin.

“I really fucked up, didn’t I? You can’t even look me in the eye…”

Hank’s voice is strained, like he’s keeping himself from crying. It’s the second ‘please’ in less than a minute and Connor knows it’s not good. They sound like strangers…

“You didn’t, you’ve just expressed your feelings. I just wish you’d have done it while sober…” he says, finally looking at Hank.

“I don’t think those things…”

“Yes, you do” Connor interrupts harshly.

His hands abruptly stop playing with the coin, eyes hard as he holds Hank’s gaze. After a minute Hank gives in and looks down.

“Ok, yes, maybe some things are true. But let’s establish one thing, I don’t want you gone”

As he says that he takes Connor’s hand, squeezing it. Connor hates how his body immediately relaxes at the touch, artificial skin peeling off, leaving him completely exposed.

“I can’t imagine living here without you. Hell, I can’t even imagine living without you, period! And I admit I handled your…confession poorly. But that’s because I never thought I’d feel like this ever again, not after everything that happened. I didn’t think I deserved it…”

Then he gets up, gripping his hair tightly.

“But it’s not an excuse for what happened. I want you to know that”

“I didn’t want to change you” Connor whispers, completely ignoring Hank’s discourse.

Hank’s stress level is already quite high, 60%, he knows interrupting him and going straight to the point will only increase it, but the probability of a negative outcome for the conversation is low. At least it’s what his program tells him, but sometimes when it comes to Hank he doesn’t know if his calculations are objective or just a manifestation of his deepest desires.

He risks it anyway.

“What?” Hank says confused, stopping his anxious pacing.

“I said I didn’t want to change you, I love you just the way you are. I was just trying to express through actions my love for you”

 

_**Stress Level: 85%**_

 

“Fuck I know that, ok? But…fuck I don’t know how to explain it to you but sometimes it’s too much, I can’t handle it”

Connor doesn’t understand, but stays quiet, waiting for Hank to complete his thought.

“It feels like I’m always competing with this perfect version of myself you have in your mind. And I want to be that man, so bad, for you; because you deserve the best. I want to be the Hank that never drinks and that has healthy coping mechanisms and is fit and handsome but I’m not and it’s exhausting”

Hank’s voice breaks a little during his speech and it kills Connor to know he’s the reason behind Hank’s torments.

Several possible answers pop up in his vision, but every single one of them seems not good enough. Too arrogant, too analytic.

Too…fake.

He knows whatever he is going to say will not be enough to placate Hank’s dark thoughts, no matter how much he tries to convince him that Connor loves him for who he is and that he wouldn’t change him for anyone else. But he still tries.

Because no matter how many times he tells himself that it’s enough to express feelings through actions, he knows how powerful words are. And Hank and him both need to communicate through words more.

“I wouldn’t want you in any other way. I love you not in spite of all your flaws and weaknesses but because of them, because they are what makes you unique”

He chooses his words carefully, trying to lower Hank’s stress level.

No.

Trying to calm him.

Hank is not a suspect, he is not under interrogation.

Sometimes he still has to remind himself this. Consciously breaking away from his program.

“I’m sorry my intentions didn’t come across as I wanted and they caused you discomfort. I’ll try other approaches to show you my love”

“You don’t need to change because my fucking brain can’t process positive emotions” Hank says frustrated.

“I’m not changing anything, I’m adapting. Just like you did with me when you started taking basic robotics classes so I don’t need to go back to Cyberlife in case of injuries and when you bought me all kinds of fidget toys to help me reduce my anxieties”

“Of course I’ll do that to you, you’re…you’re too fucking good to me” Hank mumbles, sitting back in front of Connor.

“I’m too fucking good to be helping detective Reed on his elemental case, not for you. Please don’t downplay my feelings or compliments”

“Don’t let him hear that or he’ll start barking like an annoying chihuahua” he says, laughing to himself for his analogy.

Connor just shakes his head fondly.

“But yeah, sorry about that. I’ll.. try and be better. Not bottling all my feelings and trying to drink them away”

Connor takes both Hank’s hand and squeezes them, artificial skin peeling off.

Like this he has a heightened sensibility, his sensors capturing every single detail about Hank. He knows they can’t interface like Markus and North but it still makes him feel like he’s sharing something big with Hank.

He’s revealing himself, for who he really is, and it feel liberating.

Hank takes one of his hands and gently kisses it, making eye contact for what feels like the first time in forever.

A warm feeling spreads inside him and he smiles happily.

_I love you so much_

“Want something for breakfast? Yesterday I’ve found a new recipe for an omelette, I’d like to try it” He says instead.

“As long as you don’t burn the house down like the first time you’ve tried cooking, I’m okay”

“It only happened once. It’s not like you’re a better cook” He says, as he gets up and starts searching for the right ingredients.

“Once is enough, scared Sumo for life”

“Sumo lived with you way before I came, I think nothing can scare him by now”

“Tone the sass down, kid. Respect the elderly” Hank says, as he hugs Connor from behind, leaving small kisses on his neck.

“Sure” Connor says sarcastically.

 

He finishes cooking in silence, with Hank still hugging him.

It’s peaceful. He feels grounded, completely focused on the present.

It’s always like this with Hank, his presence makes it hard for him to think about anything other than the feeling of Hank’s weight on him.

“You know I love you, right? I want you to know that. Although I’ve reacted poorly to you telling me those words, I feel it too”

For a moment Connor stills, mind processing the information. Then he turns around, carefully putting the plate on the counter, and puts his arms around Hank’s neck, his forehead touching Hank’s.

“I love you so much it drives me crazy sometimes” Hank whispers.

He has a small smile on his lips. He’s blushing slightly, while his eyes avoid meeting Connor’s. But it’s okay, it’s a slow process…

“I love you too, a whole fucking lot” he responds smiling.

Hank laughs and it fills Connor’s heart with so much happiness he feels like it might explode.

“Who taught you those words?” Hanks asks, whispering every word near his mouth.

“A grumpy man, maybe you know him” Connor says smiling so hard he’s sure it’d hurt if he was human.

Then, finally, Hank kisses him.

And everything falls into place again, making the past night just a blurry nightmare. Something distant, lived by someone else.

Because being with Hank, hugging him, kissing him or even sitting next to him while he watches tv, makes Connor feel better.

It’s hard to explain…his systems automatically respond to Hank’s presence and everything gets quiet, calmer.

He feels like as long as Hank is going to be by his side, he can do it.

He can lead a normal life. Or as normal as it can be for an android in a post-revolution world.

He can try and understand his emotions, and maybe stop feeling like an outsider.

Because he knows that no matter what choices he makes or what others will think of him, Hank will always be there for him.

Just like he’s going to be there for Hank.

And that’s enough.

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked it then leave kudos or comments!  
> You can follow me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/trash4bakugou)  
> that's where I mostly cry about how cute Hank and Connor are.


End file.
